


Wag the Dog

by BrighteyedJill



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Puppy Play, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-03
Updated: 2010-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrighteyedJill/pseuds/BrighteyedJill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chekov feels free this way, when Sulu agrees to take charge of him completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wag the Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/5274.html?thread=5158810#t5158810) at the kink meme and reworked for reposting.  
> 

Chekov drifted up from dreams to see Sulu already moving around their room. He stretched, frowning at himself for having fallen asleep. A day off duty together was too rare to squander in sleep. The morning had been well spent in slow, leisurely lovemaking, and now Chekov had woken half-hard again. He opened his mouth to berate Sulu for leaving him in bed alone, for putting on pants, of all things, and for leaving Chekov naked and cold under the covers. A familiar jangling sound stopped him mid-scold.

Sulu turned around with an inquisitive smile. Chekov’s eyes went immediately to Sulu’s hands, where there dangled a chain attached to a leather collar.

“Want to play?” Sulu asked softly.

Chekov shot out of bed at full warp and stopped dead in front of Sulu. “Yes.” He felt dizzy from standing so quickly. Or maybe the lightheadedness came from all the blood suddenly rushing to his cock.

“Do you remember the rules?” Sulu held up the collar.

Chekov nodded.

Sulu looked at him expectantly.

“A good pet does not speak,” Chekov said.

“Yes.”

“A good pet follows his master’s commands.”

“Yes.” When Chekov hesitated, Sulu prompted, “What else?”

“Hikaru, you know I feel safe with you.”

“I know.” Sulu kissed his forehead.

Chekov nodded. “If I need to stop, I tap you like this.” He rapped two fingers against Sulu’s wrist. “Or I say, ‘Red.’”

“Yes. Good.” Sulu leaned forward, wrapped a hand around to back of Chekov’s neck to pull him in for a possessive kiss, then pulled back quickly. “Go ahead.”

Chekov sank to his knees, placed his hands on the floor, and bowed his head. This part always felt like a ritual: some shared secret that only the two of them could understand. Sulu bent down to carefully secure the collar around Chekov’s neck. He tugged on the chain leash to test it, and Chekov shivered in anticipation.

“That’s my good boy.” Sulu patted Chekov on the head and then stood. “Come on.” He wrapped the leash around his hand and set off for the other end of the room.

Chekov followed obediently. His whole body felt loose and relaxed, already simmering with slow-burning arousal. His busy mind quieted like this, when Sulu took charge completely. He didn’t have to calculate or plan or worry that he wouldn’t know what to do. He had only to obey.

When they reached the room’s small table, Sulu unclipped the leash. “Stay,” he ordered.

Chekov sat back on his haunches and watched patiently as Sulu busied himself at the replicator. He couldn’t see what Sulu was doing, but he knew better than to move after Sulu had told him not to.

Sulu returned to the table holding a tray. He sat down, ignoring Chekov, and began to eat. The smell of savory food drifted down from the table.

Chekov’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was but now he couldn’t stop thinking about the food in the mess last night that had been the last thing he’d eaten. Breakfast hadn’t seemed like a priority this morning when Sulu had been licking Chekov through his second pre-noon orgasm. When Sulu continued to ignore him, Chekov whined pitifully and leaned forward as far as he could without moving from the spot where Sulu had told him to stay.

“You hungry, boy?” Sulu glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow.

Chekov whined again.

A delighted smile cracked Sulu’s façade before he submerged it again under a stern mask. “Come.”

Chekov scampered to Sulu’s side and gave an eager whimper.

“Beg.”

Chekov’s face heated, but he went up on his knees obediently and held his hands up like paws.

“Good boy.” Sulu’s face was flushed, too, and Chekov noticed he was looking him up and down approvingly. “Speak.”

Chekov paused, confused at the new command. Surely Sulu wasn’t telling him to break his own rules.

Sulu seemed to notice his confusion. “When you ask a pet to speak, he barks for you,” Sulu explained. “It’s a trick. Like the pet’s trying to be a human.” His mouth quirked momentarily. “Or I guess any sentient species with a verbal language.”

Chekov made a whimpering noise as he tried to remember the sound a dog made.

Sulu slid out of his chair to crouch beside him on the floor.

“Are you shy, boy?” he asked. “You don’t want anyone outside thinking you’re a bad boy? It’s okay.” He petted Chekov’s hair. “If anyone hears, they’ll think I brought aboard some contraband space mutt. No one will have any idea what kind of fine creature I got my hands on. Now, speak.”

Chekov opened his mouth, but managed only a mangled squawk. His cheeks burned, not in shameful delight, but with the embarrassment of failure.

“Try again,” Sulu said patiently. He dropped a hand over Chekov’s eyes, blocking out the distraction of their surroundings, and Chekov could concentrate on his master’s voice. “You’re a good boy. Just relax.” Sulu’s other hand rubbed the back of Chekov’s neck, against the collar. “Just open up and let me hear you.”

Chekov breathed deep and then let loose a throaty bark that sounded surprisingly authentic.

“Good boy!” Sulu took his hands away and Chekov saw his satisfied smile.

Sulu went back to the table, retrieved a plate, and set in on the floor a short distance from the table. “Eat up.”

Chekov bounded over to his dish and sniffed at its contents: bite-sized chunks of meat in some sort of rich, dark marinade. He glanced over at the table, but Sulu had already returned to his own meal. Chekov went at his food quickly but delicately, snatching a piece of meat off the plate with his teeth and lying on his belly as he chewed, savoring the smoky taste. Too soon the food was gone. Chekov licked his lips, chasing the last of the flavor. He wanted more.

Chekov trotted to the table and laid his head in Sulu’s lap.

“No.” The sharp snap of command in Sulu’s voice sent Chekov scrambling backward. He sat sheepishly and watched Sulu as he continued to eat and read something on his data padd.

After several minutes of patience, Chekov tried an experimental whine. Without looking up, Sulu said warningly, “You know how I feel about begging for scraps.”

When Chekov couldn’t stand the silence anymore, he slunk over to Sulu’s chair again and pressed his face against Sulu’s thigh.

“No!” This time Sulu rapped Chekov smartly on the nose.

Chekov recoiled, eyes wide.

A flash of concern crossed Sulu’s face. He brushed a finger against Chekov’s cheek in an unmistakable question: _Is this okay?_

Chekov whined contritely and nuzzled against Sulu’s knee to reassure him. His trust was absolute; he knew Sulu would never hurt him, or go further than he wanted. Chekov latched his teeth onto the loose fabric of Sulu’s pants and tugged playfully. He turned up his wide, innocent eyes to drive home his point.

“You’re so spoiled.” Sulu reached behind Chekov’s ears to scratch. “You just want to play, right boy?”

Chekov barked his agreement.

“God, Pavel.” Sulu stood and looked down at him almost reverently. “I wish I could put your leash on and lead you around the ship so everyone could see what a good boy you are.”

Chekov’s mouth went dry. His eyes strayed to the door, shut and locked with his own personal code. They were safe here, but his cock twitched enthusiastically at the fantasy that they could take this further. Chekov felt so pliant and expansive that if Sulu had asked, he would have let him lead him outside their quarters and parade him around the ship to let everyone in the whole Federation know how entirely he owned Chekov.

“Can you imagine how the captain would look at you? His cunning little navigator on his knees and begging for attention. They’d all want to take you home and play with you.” Sulu squatted beside Chekov and trailed a hand down his spine. “But you’re mine. No one gets to play with you unless I say so.” His fingers drifted lower to tease against the cleft of Chekov’s ass. “This is mine.” He grabbed a handful of the firm muscle of Chekov’s ass and squeezed. “You’re _my_ pet, aren’t you?”

Chekov whimpered and pushed back against Sulu’s hand.

“What is it, boy?” Sulu kneaded Chekov’s ass, and Chekov pressed back into his grip. “You need something?” He slid a hand between Chekov’s legs and over his heavy balls to glide against Chekov’s hard cock.

Chekov wanted to give Sulu the answer he sought, but his mouth fell open and his voice dried up when Sulu cupped his hand around the crown of Chekov’s dick and squeezed.

“You want your toy?”

The question took a few seconds to filter through the haze of Chekov’s arousal. When it did, Chekov swallowed hard and forced out a desperate yelp.

Sulu’s hands slid away. “Go get it, boy. Go get your toy.”

Chekov bounded across the room on all fours. The drawers on the storage unit presented an obstacle until he determined that he could push his nose against the button to activate the mechanism. The bottom drawer hissed open. Chekov put his hands on the lip of the drawer and stuck his head in, pushing aside items until he found the one he wanted. He closed his teeth around one end of the firm, poly-synthetic material and pulled it free.

Chekov scampered back to Sulu with his prize, a firm, double-ended synthetic phallus, a treasure from a long-ago shore leave that had proved hearty enough to withstand their rough play.

“Good boy.” Sulu took the toy out of Chekov’s mouth, patted him on the head, and then tossed the toy to the other end of the room. “Go fetch.”

Chekov whined and glanced mournfully at the toy he’d taken such trouble to get. When he looked back, Sulu seemed to be suppressing a smile.

“Don’t give me that look,” Sulu said. “Go on, fetch.”

With a sigh, Chekov trotted to the other end of the room to retrieve the toy. This time, when Sulu tried to take it from him, he held on with his teeth.

Sulu chuckled and shifted to get a better grip on his end. “Oh, you want to fight?” He held on tight while Chekov tugged, trying to shake the toy away from Sulu. “Come on boy, get it.” Sulu retreated, practically dragging Chekov with him.

Chekov planted all fours stubbornly and gave a low, rumbling warning.

“You growling at me?” Sulu loosed one hand and roughly ruffled Chekov’s curls. “Who’s my big, fierce boy?” Sulu let go entirely, sending Chekov rocking backward. He flopped into the chair at the table, legs spread wide to make room for the hard-on tenting the front of his sleep pants. “You win. I don’t even want that thing out of your mouth. I like it there.”

Chekov lay down on his belly with his hands folded on the floor in front of him. With a little maneuvering he was able to brace his prize against his hands so he could lick and suck it.

Sulu watched him with open fascination. His hand strayed to the front of his pants and he began to rub himself as Chekov played his mouth over the toy.

“You’re so…” A little tremor ran through Sulu, and he shrugged it off. “Everything you do drives me crazy.” He leaned forward to stroke the supple leather of Chekov’s collar. “And you’re mine, aren’t you, boy?”

Chekov whimpered his agreement and butted his head against Sulu’s hand affectionately.

Sulu petted Chekov’s curls before dropping his hand to rest on Chekov’s toy. “You want some help? Want me to make you feel good?”

Chekov looked up eagerly, almost wiggling in anticipation.

Sulu pulled the toy away gently and picked up the bottle of lube from the bed before settling on the floor. Chekov clambered into Sulu’s lap, putting his hands up on Sulu’s shoulders. Giving in to impulse, he licked a line up Sulu’s cheek.

Sulu, balancing the toy, the lube, and a lapful of Chekov, laughed helplessly. “Okay, boy. Be patient just a second longer.” He gave Chekov a quick kiss on the lips.

Chekov’s whole body throbbed and thrummed, desperate for more. As Sulu wiped some lube over the toy, Chekov humped desperately against Sulu’s belly.

“Stay,” Sulu said firmly.

Chekov stopped writhing and let Sulu guide him up on his knees. He felt the cool, wet press of the toy against his entrance and whimpered in anticipation. Chekov was already stretched from their earlier lovemaking. He spread his legs wider, encouraging. Sulu pressed the toy in deep with one long, relentless push. Chekov trembled in Sulu’s arms, panting against his shoulder.

“Good boy,” Sulu muttered. He, too, sounded rough and shaky. He twisted the toy, sending Chekov into excited shudders.

Chekov thrust forward, whimpering when his cock smeared pre-come against the tight muscles of Sulu’s belly. He jerked back, sending the toy jabbing further into him.

“You look so beautiful taking it like this.” Sulu drew the toy out slowly, then pumped it back in, this time at a lower angle. Chekov yelped. His hips jerked as Sulu expertly maneuvered the toy into just the right position to devastate Chekov’s control.

Chekov pushed backward, but Sulu moved with him, relentlessly building his pleasure. Chekov thrust forward again, caught between two escalating ecstasies drawing him up in a spiral so high he ceased to feel gravity’s pull as he howled his release to the world.

Chekov slumped bonelessly forward. Sulu reached between them and desperately tugged his pants open. He took his cock in hand and jacked it furiously. Chekov rocked against him, offering breathy whimpers of encouragement. He nipped at Sulu’s ear and was rewarded with a gasp.

Chekov drew back in time for Sulu’s come to land in stripes against his neck and chest, pearly white against his pale skin and the black collar.

“Damn.” Sulu slid his hand around Chekov’s neck and undid the collar’s clasp. He clutched the hot, now sticky leather tightly as he drew Chekov to him. “Pavel, the things you do to me.”

“Little me?” Chekov asked innocently. “I cannot help it.”

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to--.”

“Hikarushka.” Chekov stopped him with a finger against his lips. “You worry too much. I like what you do to me.” He pushed Sulu onto his back so he could flop on top of him.

“But you’d tell me if there was something you didn’t like?” Sulu’s hand traced whorls against Chekov’s shoulder blade.

“Yes.” Chekov stayed silent for a moment, drifting in a contented haze. “Do you like this?” He asked at last. “This game?”

“Yes. Just the way you look when I put that collar on you gets me hard. You look peaceful. There’s all this trust in your eyes.” Sulu ducked his head so he could see Chekov’s eyes. “Why? You saying you want to switch it up?”

“Switch it? You mean for you to be the pet?”

Sulu nodded, and Chekov could tell he was keeping his face deliberately neutral.

Chekov tugged the collar out of Sulu’s hand and looked at it experimentally. His eye caught the glint of lingering come marking the leather. Without thinking, he darted out his tongue to taste it. He closed his eyes, reveling in the salty, dirty taste of it mixed with the tang of leather. When he opened his eyes, Sulu lay propped up on one elbow, watching him with glassy eyes and an open mouth.

Chekov gave the collar one last languid lick and handed to back to Sulu. “No, I am not sure I want to switch,” he said. “I think I am enough in charge this way.”


End file.
